A Duke’s Unlikely Cinderella (Preview)

Chapter One

“I cannot tell if they are dresses or pieces of confectionery,” Adeline mumbled.

The modiste she stood before had large windows that proudly displayed the seamstress’s endless hours of work. Unfortunately, Adeline wasn’t too keen on the creations. Too much lace, too many bows, and too many ruffles covered the dresses in the usual soft colors that were popular with the times. She didn’t mind the pale blues, greens, blues, pink, and purples, but she preferred something more vivid and bright, hence the bright blue dress she wore with black accessories.

A little black lace at her neck, black gloves and shoes, and silver combs studded with black garnet for her deep chestnut-brown colored hair graced her well-rounded and tall figure. The ensemble was effective but not as visually overwhelming as one might assume. Adeline possessed the ability to wear brighter colors without having them appear garish or ostentatious. It was all about how she carried herself and the confidence she exuded in every step, word, and thought.

“How lovely,” an older woman commented beside her. “Young women should be dressed in these pretty colors. It’s necessary to appear demure and soft when searching for a husband.”

Adeline glanced at her but said nothing. She preferred to hold her tongue until she really had to speak. It was amazing how much one could learn from mere silence. It encouraged others to continue talking and revealing more than they bargained for.

“I imagine you do not have your dresses made here,” the woman said.

This time, Adeline had to speak. “No, I do not,” she replied.

“Hm, I noticed,” the woman replied. “Would you perhaps be willing to reveal your seamstress? My daughter is around your height and coloring, and I must confess that I would prefer her to stand out a little more than the rest.”

Adeline looked at her in amusement. The woman had just stated that the softer colors were better for young women looking for husbands. Now, she was asking for Adeline’s seamstress.

“My seamstress is a good friend in Lancashire,” Adeline revealed.

“Lancashire? That far away?” the woman said. She frowned. “Friend? You’re friends with the seamstress? I suppose you mean that politely.”

Adeline had deliberately mentioned that part to deduce the woman’s social status. She could be a well-dressed gentry woman or an aristocratic woman who hadn’t managed to climb all the way to the top of the ton’s social ladder. Surprisingly, the woman didn’t ask about Adeline’s lack of a chaperone. Perhaps she believed the chaperone was nearby, possibly the fair-haired young woman standing near them and looking into the shop window.

The fair-haired woman was married, judging by her ring, and likely five months along in her pregnancy, but it wasn’t clearly visible unless one was looking. Her companion was inside the modiste—a woman who looked similar to her. Adeline could only assume the pregnant woman didn’t want to be in the dress shop any longer and stepped outside for fresh air.

Adeline snorted to herself. London and fresh air could not be paired together, not when some shopkeepers threw scraps outside their shops and left them to rot, or horses defecated and urinated everywhere and caused a stench. Adeline was accustomed to animal droppings, but there were too many people and horses in London. Too little space and too much living meant less cleanliness and fresh air.

“Dear, did you hear me?” the older woman called, breaking into her thoughts.

Adeline gave her most charming smile. “The seamstress is a neighbor I have known since I was a little girl. Her grandfather was the reverend of our church before my father took his place.”

Now, as a reverend’s daughter, she could be gentry or landed gentry, but she could also be a commoner. Adeline could see the cogwheels turning in the older woman’s head as she tried to put her in a box. They turned to the door when the fair-haired woman’s sister left the shop, and they both walked away. Their departure could only leave one answer in the older woman’s head.

“I see,” the woman replied, understanding dawning in her eyes. She moved away, muttering to herself as she walked. “Since when do commoners dress like that?”

She appeared almost insulted, eliciting a chuckle from Adeline. Most people of gentry and aristocratic birth probably took offense that a commoner would dare to carry herself with such self-assuredness, but Adeline was raised with love and taught to not fear man or deem herself unworthy of anyone.

Social classes existed to divide man, but according to her father, God saw everyone as equals. Her father was a reverend who had devoted his life to studying the Word. He taught her that while she was to respect those in authority, she was never to allow anyone to make her believe she was worthless and unimportant. Her mother raised her with dignity and strength, and the Dowager Countess of Greenwood, her benefactor, provided the education of a lady rarely bestowed upon a commoner. Their teachings made Adeline a well-rounded commoner capable of fitting in any environment with ease. It was a blessing and a curse because while she knew much, which worked in her favor, it also worked against her.

She sighed and turned away from the window shop. This modiste wouldn’t do for Lady Sarah. There were still a few more to look at, but she needed a moment to sit and rest her feet.

Walking in a busy city like London was tiring, especially when it was her first time. There was too much to see and too little time to take in everything within a day, so she would have to return. However, it might not be so easy, given that she was Lady Sarah’s lady’s maid. This was where all her knowledge worked against her. Instead of being at home in Lancashire with her loved ones, she was working for a spoiled young woman who couldn’t keep a lady’s maid because she treated them terribly. If not for Lady Sarah being the Dowager Countess of Greenwood’s great-niece, she would have never agreed to the position. However, she owed much to the Dowager Countess, so she couldn’t refuse her heartfelt request to help her great niece with her first London Season.

A vendor stationed near a florist had a single chair and table beside his stand. Adeline approached it and caught his attention.

“Good sir, may I have whatever refreshment you’re selling and a place to sit?” she asked.

The vendor turned to her, took a quick look, and smiled. “Of course, my lady,” he said, quickly pulling the chair for her and dusting it with a relatively clean handkerchief. “Please, sit down. I have the freshest lemonade available with lemons from my own tree. I also have other syrups you might wish to try with the lemonade for a different flavor.”

Adeline gracefully lowered herself to the seat, not bothered by its less-than-desirable state of the street around her. She wasn’t so far removed from her humble beginnings that she couldn’t handle a little dirt. Not that she knew anything about her beginnings, having been orphaned at three years old and taken in by the reverend and his wife. At least, people assume she was orphaned because no one came to claim her despite the reverend’s best efforts to find her family. Eventually, they became her parents and accepted her as their own.

“I would like to have the plain lemonade first,” she said.

The vendor nodded and quickly added crushed ice to a glass before he poured the faintly cloudy liquid. Adeline was pleasantly surprised by how efficient and clean everything was, from the stand itself to the glass handed to her. Even the ice didn’t have bits of the usual dirt from breaking it into little pieces. The lemonade probably wouldn’t be as cheap as a simple vendor without ice and a spotless stand, but it was worth it. Adeline released a soft moan of approval as the tart, refreshing drink slid down her throat and sent tingles down her spine.

“Good?” the vendor asked.

“Delicious,” she replied. “I think I’d like another glass, but a different flavor. What do you suggest?”

“Strawberry or blueberry syrup,” he said.

“Blueberry.”

The vendor smiled. “I think you’ll like the color,” he said. “No one else makes lemonade like I do, you know. Everyone is satisfied with regular lemonade, but one day, I told my wife that we needed to be different. She runs the florist shop,” he added. “You should stop inside and see her pretty spring blooms. You won’t find any better. I promise you that.”

Adeline smiled. The man spoke fondly about his wife, more fondly than most gentry and aristocratic men. Sometimes, all a commoner man could give was love because he had nothing else to his name.

“I will certainly take a look, sir,” she said.

“Ah, now, do not call me sir,” he insisted. “Bartholomew is my name, but everyone calls me Bart. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before. A pretty woman like yourself would draw attention. Begging my pardon, but you’re not accompanied by anyone. That can only mean you’re one of us, or you’re out without permission.”

Adeline chuckled. She liked Bart’s straightforward manner. “I’m a commoner in fancy attire,” she told him. “I arrived in London a day ago with my… mistress.”

It wasn’t entirely easy to take on a role of servitude when she had never done it before. Adeline had been a companion at best but never anyone’s servant. However, she had all the skills necessary to be a lady’s maid, hence her new role. Frankly, she would much rather be at home helping her mother with the needy than walking around London trying to find the perfect shops for Lady Sarah’s needs. Everything had to work together to ensure a successful first Season, including setting aside her own wants and needs for the younger woman.

Several months had already passed since Adeline accepted a position as lady’s maid to the most entitled and spoiled woman she had ever known. If not for her patient nature and the Dowager Countess’s wishes, she might have refused to spend another second with Lady Sarah and just returned home.

“So, you would be a lady’s maid,” said Bart. “That’s a good position to have, especially for our kind. I would love to have one of my daughters become a lady’s maid or governess. Perhaps one day.”

“Anything is possible,” said Adeline. “A commoner like me wearing these clothes and possessing the education of ladies is not something one sees every day. I was fortunate, but I also worked hard.”

“Seeing someone like you gives us hope, Miss—”

“You can call me Adeline,” she told him.

“Adeline,” he repeated. “I know my wife would love to speak to you. Her name’s Annie.”

Bart poured a thimble full of purple-looking syrup into a glass of ice and topped it with some lemonade and soda water. He passed the glass to her with a long spoon.

“I never mix it myself,” he said. “I think it creates some amusement for the drinker.”

Adeline swirled the drink with the spoon, smiling as it took on a purple hue. It was rather pretty and appeared appetizing. She took a sip, surprised when she tasted the distinct flavor of blueberry. It paired well with the lemon’s tartness and made the drink into something more than just lemonade.

“This is amazing!” she exclaimed. “Who knew they would taste this good together? Clearly, you.”

“It was my Annie’s idea,” Bart revealed. “She is brilliant, my wife. She used to work for the people who owned the flower shop, and now she owns it.” He puffed his chest in pride. “Saved up every extra penny and bought it from them. I used to work for a doctor, but he wasn’t a very good man. My wife told me to stop working for him and help her. I’m not good with flowers, so I do little things like this to attract attention.”

Adeline didn’t expect the man’s life story, but it was interesting and inspiring. It revealed how people who came from nothing could make something of themselves. At this rate, Bart’s wishes for his daughters could come true. Adeline wanted the same for every commoner. Just as she received much help from her parents and the Dowager Countess to be who she was and have all she had, she wanted to help others become all they hoped to be.

Marriage wasn’t something Adeline was particularly concerned about. She was twenty-two and had yet to feel the urge to fall in love and start a family. Adeline didn’t want to leave her parents. Perhaps she never would. But sometimes, when staring at the stars and wondering about her life, Adeline thought about what it would feel like to be the cherished woman of one remarkable man. Her father looked at her mother like she was the sun itself, warming his face and the life-giving air he breathed. Perhaps if she could find someone who looked at her like she was his reason for existing, she might just decide to share her life with him.

***

An hour later, Adeline’s hands were full of little gifts for her parents. She wanted to send them with her first letter home from London and assure them she was well and in good spirits. It wasn’t the entire truth, but she didn’t want them to worry.

“Will this be all, miss?” the shopkeeper asked.

Adeline looked down at her selection on the counter. The small shop carried ribbons, buttons, and sewing materials in all colors, patterns, and quality. It would be perfect when she needed to alter her dresses or give Lady Sarah’s dresses a little sprucing up.

“Yes, this will be all for now,” Adeline replied. “But you’ll likely see me soon. This is a pretty shop. I adore how it has been decorated with a medieval touch. It makes one think of faerie tales.”

Some parts of the floor had mosaic tiles, which must have cost a pretty penny. Colorful pieces of woven linen, wool, and silk graced tables, chairs, and walls without being too overpowering and making the small shop seem clustered. Adeline especially loved the bright cushions on padded benches below some large windows.

The shopkeeper smiled. “My mother loves this era and wanted to incorporate it into her shop. I was worried that bringing the past into the present would clash with what we sell, but it works rather well.”

“Color and light from large windows make people feel at ease,” said Adeline. “Everything is also in harmony. I have a feeling your mother is a gifted decorator.”

“I always tell her that,” the shopkeeper said.

Adeline nodded. “Many people would want her talent if she wished to pursue it. Everyone wants their home to look better than the next person.”

The shopkeeper beamed. “I’ll tell my mother what you said. She might not believe me, but surely she’ll believe a customer. Would you mind writing in our customer book? Mama likes to read opinions and suggestions from her customers.”

“With pleasure,” said Adeline.

The shopkeeper provided her with a pen and a pretty book covered in pink linen with black lace and the shop in gold embroidery. Adeline left a detailed comment that she hoped would be helpful and encouraging. Moments later, she was outside the shop, wondering where to go next. London had too many shops to attempt to see them in one day. She took a step away from the quaint shop and frowned when she felt a tug on her bag of purchases.

Adeline always carried a linen bag for smaller purchases, while anything big was delivered to the house. The linen bag also had her money and other items like hard-boiled sweets to suck on, a little sewing kit for emergencies, her journal and a pencil, a handkerchief, and mint tea in a flask to freshen her breath. Sometimes, she carried the leaves, but it wasn’t appropriate to be seen chewing all the time. It was also unsightly to have green bits stuck between her teeth.

She looked down just as the bag was tugged harder and ripped away from her. A small figure darted away from her and squeezed his body in between the skirts of several unsuspecting women. He disappeared from view, leaving her in shock that someone would dare to steal her bag. It had never happened to her before, so she stood there for several seconds, trying to understand what had just happened.

The women who unknowingly provided the little boy’s escape route moved away and offered clear view of what had become of him and her bag. Adeline expected him to have disappeared, but instead, a tall and broad-shouldered man had him by the scruff of his neck. Adeline briefly noted his dark and handsome features before she watched him seemingly effortlessly lift the boy until his legs dangled in the air. The scrawny thief attempted to kick and punch his captor, but his legs and swinging arm could not reach the much bigger man. Perhaps if he released her bag clutched tightly to his chest, he might have a fighting chance to get away. From her experience, little boys always had the ability to worm out of almost anything. The boys at the orphanage run by her parents’ church certainly did their best to avoid discipline after a bout of mischievous behavior.

The man shook the boy hard enough to rattle his teeth, alarming her. “Wait! Stop!” she cried, rushing toward them.

While she wanted her bag back, she didn’t want the boy harmed. No one was born wanting to live a life of thievery. Certainly not a little boy who was probably shaped by his circumstances. Sometimes, a person simply did things to survive, which she understood. While a grown man or woman perhaps had more control over their actions, a child didn’t have the necessary understanding and experiences to fully grasp the why and how of consequences.

The man lowered the boy to the ground but kept firm hold of him as he looked at her expectantly, his bright green eyes observing her. He was much more handsome up close and possessed a distinguished air that told her he wasn’t an ordinary person. This man was powerful and wealthy. He was the kind of man that women pursued in wild abandon and men respected on sight. Fortunately for her, she didn’t care about that.

“Do not hurt the boy,” she begged. “Please release him—I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s pitch-black eyebrows rose, likely surprised by her words. Most men expected women to show their appreciation and swoon over him, and while she was grateful, she wasn’t all that impressed. Women who were not looking for heroes to save them were not impressed by men using their strength on little children, even if the man looked like he was lovingly carved out of marble and given the breath of life by Aphrodite.

Chapter Two

Theodore’s initial opinion of the woman appeared to be right. There was something different about her. An ordinary woman would never ask him to leave the child alone to deal with him. They would expect the man to handle the situation.

“Hand the boy over to you?” he asked, wanting to ensure he had heard the right thing.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I can handle the situation from here. Thank you,” she said.

The last bit sounded more like an afterthought than something heartfelt. Theodore narrowed his eyes slightly and observed the woman. She was even prettier standing before him than when he spotted her moments ago. He first noticed the boy skulking around and knew he was up to no good, so he stood off to the side to watch him. The woman appeared outside a shop and drew his attention like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was the vibrant color of her dress or the way she held herself, but whatever it was, it was eye-catching.

Staring at her made him lose track of time and the boy’s movements because, by the time he looked at him again, he was within touching distance of the woman. Theodore knew the boy was about to rob her, but he was too far to shout and not cause unnecessary chaos. People, especially women, went into hysterics at the thought of trouble, and Theodore did not want them fainting or men getting hold of the boy and making an example of him. It had happened several times before and wasn’t a pretty sight to behold.

“Sir?”

The woman’s firm but soft voice drew Theodore out of his thoughts. “This sneaky little street urchin will just run off and disappear the second I let him go,” he explained. “He probably knows these streets like the back of his hand and has dozens of places to hide.”

“I understand all that,” she said. “But he’s just a child and needs to be taught right from wrong for his sake.”

Theodore almost laughed. “Begging your pardon, but have you ever dealt with thieves? You’re more likely to push a bull through the eye of a needle than change a thief.”

“Perhaps that can be said of an adult, but children are different,” she argued. “This child cannot be more than eight or nine.”

Theodore pulled the child back to peer into his dirty face. The boy scowled at him and hugged the woman’s bag closer to her chest.

“He’s likely a little older and just small for his age,” said Theodore. “His eyes do not seem like those of a child.”

“Still,” the woman insisted. “I do not want him harmed.”

She smoothed her hand over a shapely hip, surprising him when it disappeared into a hidden pocket. She rummaged a little and pulled out a coin.

“I will give you this if you release my bag,” she told the boy, drawing a little closer to him. She leaned toward him until they were at eye level. “I have gifts in there that I’d like to send to my parents. I’ll be disappointed if I lose them. You understand, don’t you?”

The boy didn’t respond, so Theodore shook him a little. “The lady is talking to you.”

Her eyes met his and pinned him with a disapproving stare. “That is not necessary, sir,” she said. “We merely need patience.” She looked at the boy. “You must be hungry. Why don’t you buy something to eat with this money? That will be much quicker than trying to sell my belongings. Someone else could steal them from you before you even get any money from them. With this coin, you can run to the bakery and buy bread. That sounds better, doesn’t it?”

Theodore felt a shift in the boy’s body language within seconds. His hunched shoulders dropped, and his arms loosened around the bag. He was actually listening to the woman. Frankly, Theodore would do the same. Her voice was soothing, and her words were driven by logic that the young boy could understand. He wondered if she had any children of her own. She appeared old enough to have at least one child. Oddly, the thought left him disappointed.

“You’re truly giving me the coin?” the boy said, speaking for the first time. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”

Suspicion clouded his voice. Theodore didn’t blame him. The boy snatched her bag and attempted to run off with it, yet she didn’t appear angry and even offered him money. It was strange for a boy who was probably only accustomed to hardships and sharp words.

“I do my best never to lie,” the woman said. “It’s a nasty habit. You can have this coin, and you’ll return my bag. There will be no consequences for your actions today, but you might not be so fortunate in the future. For now, let’s just focus on our situation.”

She moved closer and nudged his hand with the coin. Theodore watched on as the boy hesitated before quickly grabbing the coin and sheepishly handing her bag to her. The woman smiled at him, briefly touched his head, and straightened.

“You can let go of him,” she said. “I have my bag.”

She patted it for good measure. Theodore nodded and released the boy, chuckling when he wasted no time scurrying away. He disappeared within seconds. Turning to the woman, Theodore frowned at her. While he understood the reasoning behind her actions, he didn’t know if he entirely agreed with her.

“You have taught that child that stealing has no consequences,” he said. “Why?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

“He stole from you, and you gave him a coin in return for a bag that he stole from you,” Theodore pointed out.

The woman smiled slightly. “I suppose it appears that way on the surface,” she said. “That child was forced into a life of thievery because he didn’t think he had any other option. He should be going to school or playing with other children in a safe environment, not looking for his next source of money and food. I merely wanted to show him mercy and let him know that not everyone hates him or believes he’s worthless and deserves punishment. Is that so wrong?”

Shame crept over him. Theodore knew he was right, but she also sounded right. One could look at the situation from multiple angles, but the fact remained that the child likely didn’t learn anything from his interaction with the woman. He might even look for another victim and expect the same outcome.

“What if he grows desperate and steals again?” he asked, unwilling to relinquish his argument. “The next person will not be merciful. He needs to be tough to survive, but you could have softened him. His expectation of having someone else pardon him could hurt him or worse.”

The woman’s face grew hard. He appeared to have angered her. The sudden change was a little alarming, and he took a mental step back.

“So, in order to toughen him, we should treat him cruelly whenever he makes a mistake?” she asked. “Did you forget that he is a child? He is not a hardened criminal! But he certainly will become one if everyone thinks like you. Can you not see the injustice of it? He only stole because he was hungry. He didn’t intend to hurt me. While I did not wish to lose my purchases because it would be bothersome, it doesn’t mean I cannot replace them. At the end of the day, I shall return to my warm bed and sleep with a belly full of food, but what does he have to look forward to?”

The feeling of shame grew heavier on Theodore’s soul. He was raised to believe that certain situations did not deserve mercy but harsh consequences, especially for commoners. While he hadn’t been comfortable with all these teachings, he had to accept that everything had consequences. However, the woman was right. The boy was just a child with a life stretched out before him. Perhaps this show of mercy might change the trajectory of his life.

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “We cannot blame the child, but who will you blame? His parents for not providing for him?”

She snorted. “His parents wouldn’t be in that position if a minority of people had not amassed a fortune for themselves, leaving others without a means to live. It’s not fair, is it?”

Considering she was part of the minority, she was rather harsh with her own people. Theodore didn’t know her, but she certainly couldn’t be a commoner, not from the way she was dressed and carried herself.

“Life isn’t fair,” Theodore pointed out.

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you cannot make a difference in someone’s life. I know that child will get to eat today—that is the bottom line.”

This woman was fierce but kind and possessed a strong sense of justice. He had never had an argument with a woman and lost, but understandably so. He wasn’t mad, but he was taken aback by the situation.

“Thank you for helping me, sir,” she said, lowering her head briefly. “Please, excuse me. I have errands to run.”

She turned around before he could respond, but the sudden need to know her had him calling out to her.

“Just a moment,” he said. “Please.”

She paused and partially turned back to him. “Yes?”

“May I have your name?” he asked. “It seems odd to have spent the better half of thirty minutes with someone whose name I do not know.”

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “Miss Everhart.”

“And I am Theodore Spencer,” he replied.

He purposefully omitted a part many would consider necessary in an introduction. Theodore was also the Duke of Cambridge and well-known in London, but she didn’t know who he was. That was refreshing. Had she known him, she might not have stood her ground against him.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Spencer,” she said, smiling.

“And you, Miss Everhart. It has been a pleasure.”

“Goodbye,” she said, walking away.

Theodore wanted to stop her again, but he didn’t have a valid reason. She also said she had errands to run, so he couldn’t keep her from them simply because he wanted to speak to her more. He didn’t budge from his position as he watched her walk away until she disappeared from view.

“Miss Everhart,” he whispered. “I hope we meet again.”